


Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken

by kitkatkaylie



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: BAMF Elia Martell, Because Lyanna canonically was fifteen, Elia Martell Lives, Elia Martell-centric, Elia is bitter, Female Friendship, Gen, Lyanna Stark Lives, Ned Stark is a good brother, Referenced Underage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:41:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22189597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitkatkaylie/pseuds/kitkatkaylie
Summary: Elia Martell had been fully prepared to hate the woman who her husband had forced her to hide away with, but then she had met Lyanna Stark.AU In which Elia is sent to join Lyanna at the Tower of Joy
Relationships: Elia Martell & Lyanna Stark, Lyanna Stark & Ned Stark
Comments: 20
Kudos: 216





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The working title for this piece was 'Elia Martell is a FUCKING saint' so I'm sure that tells you all you need to know about my feelings for this story...

Elia Martell has been fully prepared to hate the woman her husband had hidden her with, the woman that had been the catalyst for war. The woman her husband had all but ordered her to assist with her pregnancy.

And then she had met Lyanna Stark.

Had met the child her husband had fallen for, a girl who had flowered, but who was merely five-and-ten years old. A child who was fiercely homesick and who desperately wanted her older brother to come for her.

Elia’s heart had melted, she could not blame the child for being taken from her family and locked in a tower until she gave birth to a child her body was not ready for.

She could not hate such a girl. Her hate turned, to face her husband instead.

The man who had seen a child ten years his junior and taken her. The man who had caused a civil war with his selfishness and unwillingness to speak up against his father.

Lyanna was sad and homesick and heavily pregnant, her body too young for the burden it was being put through, a burden not aided by her melancholy and stress. The only time Elia saw any joy on Lyanna’s face was when she told tales of Winterfell to Rhaenys, or when Elia sang to her children, then she looked almost fond.

Elia found herself hoping that Lyanna’s prayers would come true, that her brother would come for her. Better the sweet boy from her stories than the butcher who made the Trident run red with her husband’s blood.

* * *

There was a clattering outside, the sound of armour and horses and Elia rushed to the window, hoping desperately that she would not see the Lions of House Lannister or the Stag of House Baratheon. She was in luck, the grey and white Wolves or the Starks fluttered in the air and she rushed down the stairs, hopeful she could prevent any bloodshed.

“Stop!” She called, as she flung open the door.

The men that Rhaegar had ordered to protect them halted their swords, and so did the Stark men, although they looked to their leader while doing so.

Elia had only met Lord Stark once, at that fateful tourney, but he could be no one else, not when he looked so similar to Lyanna.

“My lords, halt this fighting. There is no need for it, not unless Lord Stark has come to kill me.” Elia said, her voice as commanding as she could make it.

Lord Stark sheathed his great sword and bowed to her, “Princess Elia, I am so pleased to see that you are well. I had feared the worst.”

His tone was sincere, as was his bearing and Elia let go of the tension she had hardly realised she was holding.

“Lord Stark, if you would be so kind as to leave your arms outside, there is someone here who would be most happy to see you.”

Lord Stark handed his sword to the man at his side and moved forward without a word, until he stood so near that Elia could see the hope in his eyes.

“Is Lyanna...” He trailed off as a scream rent the air.

“I have sent for a midwife, my Lord,” Elia said, as she placed a comforting hand on his arm, “But it is a fair distance from here to the nearest village.”

“Lord Dustin, take two men and ride to the village to accompany the midwife.” Lord Stark ordered, his tone as harsh as the land he hailed from.

The man who must have been Lord Dustin nodded and rode off, leaving dust in his wake. Lord Stark then turned to her with a soft kind of urgency.

“Is there aught I can do to alleviate my sister’s suffering, Princess Elia?”

Elia took his elbow and led him into the cool of the tower.

“You can offer her comfort, my Lord, she has longed for your presence for many moons. To see you have come for her will offer her a comfort that little else will.”

Lord Stark took in a deep breath and followed her up the winding staircase to the chamber that was Lyanna’s.

Elia gestured for him to wait outside the door while she went in first, he would know from her words when to come in.

“Lyanna? Sweetling, how are you doing?” She asked, perching on the bed and brushing a lock of dark hair away from Lyanna’s forehead.

“It hurts Elia.” Lyanna whimpered, “Make it stop.”

“I know sweetling, I know.” Elia soothed, “I have someone here to see you. Someone I know you will be happy to see.”

Lord Stark pushed the door open and stepped into the room and Lyanna took in a sharp breath.

“Ned?”

The young man crossed the room in four long steps and stood at his sister’s bedside.

He gazed down at her with such tenderness that Elia felt a sudden longing for her own brothers, they resided in the same kingdom and yet they had never felt so far away.

“I’m here Lya. I’m here.” Lord Stark said as he gently took his sister’s hand.

Lyanna let out another screech, and panted heavily with the pain, and while Lord Stark flinched at the noise, to his credit he did not move away from Lyanna’s side. It was more than Elia’s husband had ever done.

“Ned, Ned it hurts. Elia.” Lyanna did not seem to know who she wanted by her side more, the brother she had wished for so desperately, or the woman who had been caring for her.

Elia did not make her choose, she took hold of Lyanna’s other hand and stroked it soothingly.

“Do not worry sweetling,” She said softly, “I have sent for the midwife, and your brother has sent men to escort her here. We won’t let anything happen to you or your babe.”

The girl let out a desperate sob at those words and Elia felt her heart ache, she was too young to be going through this. Not for the first, and certainly not for the last time, did she curse her husband, if it wasn’t for him they would not be in this mess. The war still might have happened of course, but it might not have, not if the lords were content with the idea that Rhaegar was not as power mad as his father. Not if the child she soothed at this moment’s father and brother were not killed.

She could not spend all her time thinking of what ifs however, she had her children to think of. Had Rhaenys and Aegon to protect even now as they hid in the nursery at the top of the tower with a guard to watch over them.

She would kill Lord Stark herself if she had to, to keep her babies safe. But she hoped he could be reasoned with, from Lyanna’s stories he was perhaps the only one that could be.

She did not know how much time passed in the room filled with Lyanna’s pain and their attempts to comfort her, but eventually the news they had been waiting for arrived.

“Elia?” Arthur called from outside the chamber, “The midwife is here.”

Elia left the bedside to allow the midwife in, a woman who curtseyed at the sight of her princess, although she hid her shock well, especially when she saw who she would be treating.

“My princess, my lord, my lady.” She said in a voice tinged with a comforting Dornish accent, “If my lord could leave us for a while please? I should like to examine my patient.”

Lord Stark left the room after pressing a soft kiss to his sister’s forehead, and Elia slipped out after him, although only after she had informed the midwife that she only had to call of she needed anything.

“Thank you, Princess Elia, for the care you have shown to my sister.” Lord Stark said as soon as they were in the corridor, his eyes earnest. “I know it cannot have been easy for you.”

“I lost all anger I felt towards your sister the moment I laid eyes on her,” Elia answered truthfully, “She is but a child herself, one my husband took advantage of. I could not hate her for that.”

“Still, my lady, if there is anything I can do to repay you for the kindness you have shown, you need only ask.”

This was Elia’s chance, she steeled herself and took a deep breath.

“I would have cared from Lyanna with no reward, my lord, but all I ask is for the lives of my children. We will swear to not take up arms, but let us return to my brothers in Sunspear.”

Lord Stark’s eyes softened, “My lady, I would have done so anyway. You and your children are innocents, and I would not have your deaths on my conscience.”

Elia finally allowed herself to relax, she trusted his word, everyone spoke of how honourable Lord Stark was.

“And what of your sister and her babe, my lord?” Elia pressed gently, as she placed a hand on his arm.

Lord Stark sighed, “Ideally I would take her home, back to Winterfell where she never needs to worry about the South again. But Robert… he is obsessed with her. He will insist she marries him. And as for her babe, well, that I do not know, I was not expecting her to be with child.”

Elia patted his arm, by all their laws Lord Stark was a man, and yet he still was so very young and he sounded it in that moment.

“I’m sure we can think of something, Lord Stark.”

A whimper drifted down the stairs to them, and Elia immediately started heading up to the nursery, her babies were probably distressed by the noises Lyanna was making, and she would not have them distressed if she could help it.

Her sweet girl ran into her arms as soon as she entered the room, and Elia took a moment just to breathe in the sweet scent of her daughter. She released Rhaenys when Aegon whimpered once ore and crossed to the crib that held her son.

“She, sweetling, mama’s here.” She crooned, as she lifted her son to cradle in her arms. “I know, all that noise is so worrying, isn’t it?”

“Mama!” Rhaenys called to her, a tint of fear to her voice and Elia whirled around to see that Lord Stark had followed her.

“Peace, Rhaenys.” She said gently, “This is Lord Stark, he is Lyanna’s brother.”

“Princess,” Lord Stark said, and he bowed low to Rhaenys and kissed her hand like they were in court. “It is an honour to meet you.”

Rhaenys giggled, in the way she used to when Ser Jaime would do the same in the Red Keep. It was a sweet sound, one that was heard all too rarely since Rhaegar’s idiocy had reared its head.

“Thank you, Lord Stark.” Rhaenys curtseyed back, “Are you here to look after Lyanna?”

“Aye, Princess, I’m here to bring my little sister home.”

Rhaenys nodded and screwed up her face in the expression that meant she was thinking about something.

“Lord Stark, is it true that it snows in the summer in the North? Lyanna told me it does, but she also said that Grumpkins are real.” She asked carefully, and Elia had to resist the urge to laugh at the too serious tone of her daughter’s voice.

“It is true princess, it does snow in summer, and,” A hint of laughter filled Lord Stark’s voice, “Grumpkins are real as well. They eat little children who do not listen to their mothers, or that is what my own mother told me.”

Elia could not hide the smirk those words brought to her face, already it appeared as though her daughter was as enamoured with Lord Stark as she was with Lyanna.

A knock on the door startled her, and Arthur stood in the entry way.

“My princess, the midwife is asking for you.” He said, still formal in company despite their long friendship.

“Thank you, Arthur.” Elia said and placed her son back in his cradle, “I trust you and Lord Stark can be civil while I am gone, I want no blood shed on my nice clean floors.”

Arthur cracked a smile in response to her teasing, “We shall restrain ourselves, in honour of your floors of course.”

She merely shook her head fondly as she left the nursery, she trusted that even if lord Stark turned false Arthur would keep her children safe. And she could not abandon Lyanna now.

The child’s face was screwed up in pain when she entered the room and Elia did not need the prompting of the midwife to move to her side and offer comfort and reassurance.

She stroked Lyanna’s hair, and held her hand, and crooned soothingly to her as she struggled to bring her child into the world.

And then eventually, a sharp wail rent the air and Lyanna sagged in relief. The midwife gathered up soft blankets and warm water and gently washed the babe and placed it in Lyanna’s arms.

“Congratulations, my lady, you have a son.” The midwife announced, although Elia was unsure whether Lyanna had heard her words, so entranced was she by the babe in her arms.

He was a pretty babe, and already Elia could tell he had more of the Stark look in him than the Targaryen, his hair already dark and his face long.

“Lyanna,” Elia encouraged softly, “Do you know what you want to call him?”

Lyanna traced a finger down her son’s cheek.

“Jon. His name is Jon.”


	2. Chapter 2

_Princess Elia,_

_I hope this message finds you and your children well. You will be pleased to know that Lyanna is recovering well from her illness in the clear air of the North, surrounded by her family. She would not be here without your kind care and for that I will always be grateful._

_Little Jon is settling in well, and his cousin Robb has quickly latched onto him, they seem to do little other than cling to each other and babble to each other. It is a sweet sight indeed._

_It has snowed here, this past week, something Lyanna is sure that Princess Rhaenys will be excited to hear about. She has requested that I ask you for permission to write to you, and your children, she is scared of her upcoming marriage and would, I think, be grateful of any advice you have to offer._

_Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North._

* * *

_Elia,_

_Ned says that you are willing to exchange letters with me, and I am pleased about that. I had worried that your care was born of obligation not friendship, please tell me if it is so, if only so I do not hold a false hope in my heart._

_It is a shame that my illness coincided with the birth of Brandon’s son, there have been the strangest of rumours floating around regarding myself and Jon. We disregard them of course, everyone knows that he is Brandon’s son from one of his many dalliances, but still, people’s minds are most peculiar, don’t you think?_

_My good-sister is a kind woman, she does not particularly like Jon, but then she is a devout follower of the Seven, enough so that Ned has even ordered a Sept built for her! I do not think she will be cruel to him, I do not know how anyone could be cruel to such a sweet babe. If I could I would take him with me when I go to Kings Landing, but it is best for him to remain in the North with his cousins._

_Please give my love to Rhaenys and Aegon._

_Lyanna._

* * *

_Elia,_

_It snowed today, deep enough that I was able to convince my brothers to set aside the swords and duties and have a snow fight, the way we did as children. Even my good sister joined in! The babes are fascinated by the snow, and Jon cries every time he has to leave it, perhaps his name gives him some sense of kinship with it? Do your brother’s children have the same fascination with the sands of your homeland?_

_I was so pleased to hear that little Rhaenys has begun her lessons properly, although the tales of her dislike for reading are most familiar, my brother Benjen was the same and Ned tells me that I was as well. Since I do not recall this I am sure he is just teasing me, as brothers are want to do. But I digress, if it will help please tell Rhaenys that when she is deemed able to read, I shall gift her a book of Northern Tales, for she did so like to hear them._

_I am feeling stronger, I thank you for asking, although not yet deemed strong enough to travel to Kings Landing to take my betrothed’s side. my brother does not speak of it, but I am sure he is grateful to keep me close for at least a little longer._

_Lyanna._

* * *

_Princess Elia of House Martell,_

_The Iron Throne calls for you to come and bend the knee to King Robert Baratheon, First of his name; and declare that neither you nor your children will take up arms against the throne._

_Failure to do so will be considered an act of war._

_Jon of House Arryn, Lord of the Eyrie, Warden of the Vale, Hand of the King._

* * *

_Princess Elia,_

_Lyanna told me that you have been called to Kings Landing, send a letter acquiescing but tell them you need time. I will start to make the journey down in two weeks to begin to negotiate preparations for Lyanna’s wedding, if you arrive while I am there then I promise that no harm will come to you._

_Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North._

* * *

Kings Landing was a shit hole. There was no nice was to say it. Elia had thought so the first time she had set eyes upon the city and she thought so again as her boat sailed into the harbour, her brother at her side.

“I don’t like you being here.” Oberyn said quietly, but still fiercely.

“I don’t like it either.” She replied just as quietly, “But we cannot afford another war. And Lord Stark promised I would be safe as long as he was here.”

Oberyn huffed, “I don’t trust Eddard Stark.”

Her brave brother did not trust anyone who was not of Dornish decent, he believed he was the only one who could keep her safe and Elia worried that his short temper would cause them much trouble in the future. She loved him, but she knew he was impulsive and short tempered at the best of times, and these were not the best of times.

“If he had wanted me dead or harmed, he could have dragged me and my babies back to Kings Landing, instead he sent me with an escort to Sunspear where I would be safe from Baratheon soldiers. As improbable as it might be the Starks are not our enemies.” Elia reminded him, placing a gentle hand on his arm to calm him.

The city still bore the scars of the Lannister rampage, and for a horrible second Elia thought about what might have happened to her and her children had they been present when the Lannisters entered the city. Would they too have been casualties of the war, her babes dead before they had even lived?

She would not show her fear or disquiet at being back, not until she was safely ensconced in her chambers with her brother and their loyal companions. She was a Princess of Dorne and she would not let them see her fear.

* * *

Elia could not help the shiver of fear that went through her upon entering the Throne Room, the last time she had been there was to witness the deaths of Rickard and Brandon Stark, an event she still had nightmares about. While logically she knew that Robert Baratheon was not Aerys Targaryen, that he was not the Mad King, she could not help the fear she felt at the sight of someone sat upon the Iron Throne.

She knew that she could very well leave the room to go to her execution or with her children taken from her.

Elia could play the game though, there was no hint of Targaryen red or black upon her person, her dress was entirely Dornish in style and in the oranges of her family’s House, she would do as much as she could to remind the Court she was a Martell by blood and birth.

Baratheon certainly looked the part of the conquering king, handsome and young and so very arrogant. To his side stood a Lord Arryn, and Elia felt pity fill her heart for Lady Lysa Tully at the sight of him, for he was far too old to be wed to a girl of seventeen.

It was a relief to see Lord Stark on his other side, even Doran trusted the man, and Ashara had spoken highly of him once upon a time. And he had promised that as long as he was there she would be safe and the Stark’s could always be trusted to honour their promises.

When she was called up before the throne she curtseyed and waited for the King to speak, a wait that did not take long at all.

“Ned here tells me that it is thanks to you my betrothed is not dead. That it was your nursing and quick thinking that kept my Lyanna from an early grave.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Elia ducked her head, “Lady Lyanna had a sand fever, they can be quite deadly to those who do not know how to deal with them.”

Robert Baratheon leaned forwards on the Iron Throne, and looked at her with a type of intensity that was different to Aerys’ and yet somehow similar.

“My Hand thinks that your children should be sent to be fostered with a loyal House until your son is old enough to join the Night’s Watch and your daughter old enough to join the Silent Sisters, and it is sound advice. However, Lord Stark has a softer heart than us, as does my betrothed, and both have petitioned me to allow you to raise your children in Dorne.”

The whole Court hung on the King’s words and Elia felt fragile tendrils of hope grasp her heart, to be allowed to raise her children in peace was all she wanted, she would happily renounce any title or honour should she be allowed to keep her babes close to her.

“Princess Elia Martell, for your service in keeping Lady Lyanna Stark alive I grant you leave to raise your children how you wish, provided that you swear to never raise arms against the Iron Throne, and your children do so once they come of age.”

It was sheer force of will that kept Elia from collapsing with relief, instead she forced herself into a curtsey.

“Thank you, Your Grace, for your mercy.”

She moved away from his eyesight as quickly as she could to allow another to take her place before the throne. Her eye caught Lord Stark’s and he nodded to her, a mere incline of the head, that had her smiling back in thanks.

She didn’t know what he and Lyanna had done to allow her to keep her babies, but she was grateful, so very, very grateful.

* * *

An invitation for tea arrived to her rooms the day after her Court appearance. Lord Stark had invited her, likely at his sister’s request, but Elia did not mind. She wished to speak with him anyway, to thank him and Lyanna for interceding on her behalf with the King.

He had been given the rooms that had once been Rhaegar’s, although they looked different without the dragon iconography everywhere. Conflicted feelings rose in her breast upon seeing the rooms, she and Rhaegar may not have loved one another, but they had shared a happy marriage for a number of years before he became obsessed with prophesy.

Lord Stark looked as out of place in the rooms as Elia felt, his leathers and furs far too plain not to stand out compared to the silks and brocades of the other nobles.

“Princess Elia, it is good to see you so well.” Lord Stark bowed over her hand stiffly and Elia curtseyed back.

“It is good to see you as well, Lord Stark. I trust Lady Lyanna is well?”

An uncomfortable look crossed his face, “Well enough, my lady. She is still weak, but finds joy playing with the babes. I was wondering, my lady, if you might be able to show me to the godswood? While I have been told there is one here, no one has yet had the time to show me.”

Elia took a moment to think over his words, for what other reasons he might have for wishing to speak to her, but she nodded, she could not refuse someone who held the King’s favour, not when her own position was still precarious.

“I would be happy to show you, my lord. It would be a cruelty to keep you from your gods.”

He took her arm in his and allowed her to lead him through the corridors of the Red Keep and the gardens, in places it was still marred by war and places where tapestries had once hung had yet to be filled.

The Godswood had never been a place she had visited much, but it had been where she had fled to after the deaths of Rickard and Brandon Stark, to pray for them to the gods they had kept as well as to escape the mad eye of the King.

They exchanged bland pleasantries on their walk, nothing that would cause any suspicion to occur. Nothing that would jeopardise either of their families’ safety.

The air seemed lighter when they entered the Godswood, the feeling of being watched lessened, enough so that Lord Stark felt comfortable mentioning his nephew.

“We were hoping that, when he gets older Jon would be able to squire in Dorne, it would do him good to see the land I which he was born.” _And meet his siblings._

Elia knew what he meant, what he did not say. they had agreed after Jon’s birth what story they would tell, and when the children would be told. And it did make sense to send the boy to Dorne, there his bastard status would not be a shame, and it would let him know his sister and brother.

“I’m sure an arrangement can be made, my lord. My brother perhaps would be happy to take a Stark as a squire.” Oberyn would if she requested it, he always had been unable to refuse her.

“Thank you, my lady.” Lord Stark said with the hint of a smile that faded when he laid a hand upon the oak that served as a heart tree.

He sighed and looked on her with a solemn gaze, that reminded her of Doran.

“In truth, my lady, I am worried for my sister. I do not think she will acclimate well to Kings Landing, to the pit of vipers that is the Court, but the King is her betrothed and I was lucky to be able to convince him to gift her a year to heal.”

Elia smiled at him with what she hoped was a reassuring smile, he was still young, barely a man in truth for all he had fought a war and she would not begrudge him his doubts.

“You have a brother, do you not? And banner men that you trust? Send a contingent to court with her, one large enough that the Southern Houses cannot get close to her. They might not be able to protect her from everything, but you will have done all you can.” She advised, it was what her brothers had done for her and it had worked until the war had broken out.

Relief overtook his features and he took one of her hands in his to grasp in thanks.

“Thank you, my lady. We were hoping as well, that you would be willing to continue to exchange correspondence with Lyanna, your letters are always much anticipated by her and your advice eagerly accepted. She would not ask you to return here, and I know it is much to ask of you but it would be a comfort to know she has an ally in the South.”

“My Lord,” Elia squeezed his hand back, “My daughter would never forgive me if I stopped writing to your sister, and I have come to enjoy our correspondence as well. It will be no hardship to write to one I consider a friend.”

Something in Lord Stark’s gaze lightened, and he looked his age of nine-and-ten for the first time since she had seen him in the Throne Room. He did remind her of Doran and Oberyn with the way he so obviously loved Lyanna, of how protective he was of her and it lightened something in her own chest.

Once she left she would be thankful to never return to the city, to raise her children in peace in Dorne away from those who wanted them dead. But, Elia supposed, she would not mind the occasional visit to see the girl who had somehow become a dear friend despite Rhaegar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are thinking of commenting on this fic blaming Lyanna then please do not, this fic is Lyanna and Elia positive.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> If you want to chat with my about my writing or in general find me on tumblr @istaricelebelasse


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